


Teach Me to Play?

by Covinskey



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Fluff, Hide and Seek, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 21:06:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4720430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Covinskey/pseuds/Covinskey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos tells a story from his childhood and Cecil is curious</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teach Me to Play?

“Teach me how to play?”

“Hmm?” Carlos prompted, shifting a little on the couch.

“Can you… teach me how to play hide and seek?”

“You never played?”

They were laying on the couch, or more accurately, Carlos was laying on the couch and Cecil was laying on Carlos. They were staring at the astronomically accurate star chart they had set up on the living room ceiling with glow-in-the-dark stars and talking about the future, which had led to a conversation about marriage, which led to kids, which led to childhood recollections, which led to Carlos’s story about getting stuck behind a couch during a game of hide and seek.

“No,” Cecil sighed, setting his head back, “At least, I don’t remember ever playing.”

“It’s pretty simple,” Carlos said, “Just choose a person to be it, they count to ten, and everybody hides.”

“And then the it has to find them?”

“Yeah.”

“Can we play?”

Carlos’s first instinct would have been to chuckle a little, but Cecil sounded so…. something that he just nodded and started to sit up.

“Sure,” he said, “Of course we can.”

“Can I hide?”

“Alright.”

Carlos stood up properly in the middle of the living room. “Good luck hiding from me,” he challenged with a wink.

Cecil scoffed. “I’m pretty good at hiding, I’ll have you know. Station management and street cleaners can attest to that.”

Carlos just smirked and covered his eyes, counting.

Sure, he heard the standard shuffling/scuffling noises of people-hurrying-to-hide, but he could never tell where anyone went. When he opened his eyes, the living room was deserted.

The kitchen was closest, and Carlos quickly confirmed that Cecil was not under the table, chairs, in the fridge,  or in any cupboards.

A survey of the bathroom proved that Cecil was not in the tub, toilet, or sink. He hadn’t jumped in the linen closet or behind the towel rack. In their bedroom, he hadn’t climbed into the closet, dresser, or under the bed. (The void down their waved in a friendly manner).

It was odd.

Carlos returned to the living room, deciding to do a more thorough search. Not behind the TV cabinet or under the coffee table. But, he did hear a faint rustling noise.

“Cecil?”

Of course, there was no response. That would be against the rules. The rustling noise continued, coming from the couch.

Feeling more than a little silly, Carlos pressed one cheek to the floor so he could see if Cecil had wedged himself in the one inch gap under the sofa.

Nothing.

He pulled the cushions off the couch only to find the black fabric of unknown origin that covered the frame. But by now, the rustling had been reduced to giggling.

Carlos stood on the couch and planted his hands on the wall, looking straight down.

“Found you,” he informed his boyfriend, who had managed to cram himself between the wall and the back of the couch without touching the floor.

“Told you you couldn’t find me,” Cecil boasted.

“I did find you, sweetie, now come on out.”

“Sure thing.”

There was a pause, some shuffling.

“Carlos?”

“Yeah babe?”

“I’m stuck.”


End file.
